St Lachlan's Puzzle
by DarkLikeitornot
Summary: Luke at his new school, feels secure and safe writing to Layton, and making friends. However, someone special arrives and things get a lot more terrifying. **Spoilers of PL3 ending.**
1. Dear Layton

Ah! Darlings, this is my first PL Fan fiction, it'll be on Luke X Legal.

Okay, if you haven't completed Professor Layton and the Lost Future/Unwound Future/Last Time Travel, do not read, because it will have Spoilers.

Also, if you have anything against Legal X Luke, please turn away now. Also, Clive is 18 in this, because isn't he technically 8 when it blew up and it was ten years onwards? I think so. (So the whole "I'm Luke's self ten years in the future!" is complete rubbish as then he'd have to be 21 because Luke is 11…)

Anyways…

Chapter 1: Dear Layton.

I sighed to myself, and reached for Layton's Letter to read once more. I grabbed the parchment in hands, and sniffed it. It smelt just like him: Tea and Aftershave. My eyes scanned over his fabulous penmanship:

_Dear Luke,_

_My boy, how has school been? Fascinating, are you filled with the inarticulate joys of learning, or does it merely disappoint? I sincerely hope my first option is correct. If not, think of school as a puzzle there's the delicious part of formulating a method to work out your answer, then figuring out the part, and finally, having the satisfaction of it complete! I reckon a boy as sociable and as mannerly as you are, has many friendships wherever he travels. _

_To bring an end to this, I have a riddle for you. Why not a puzzle? A riddle is a puzzle, my boy and life is as well. _

_Which animal has at first four legs, then two legs, and then three legs? _

_Have fun puzzling!_

_Yours truly,_

_Professor Hershel Layton. _

A tricky one, but I've seen worse. I thrust my hand into the cubbyhole in the table that I was working at. I was successful; there was paper. I had my pen and inkbottle prepared. I was going to solve this riddle, once and for all. It was typical of The Professor to signature himself with a puzzle of some sort. "Oh what could it be, _an animal with initially four legs, then two, and then finally ending at three_? Oh, could it be of a evolutionary line?" I wondered aloud, and stretched my arms back in the air.

Professor Layton was a truly a God that was sent down from the skies, A puzzle God. He was my idol, perfection in a top hat. I longed to have his intelligence, his suave tone of voice. I was doomed with this squeaky high-pitched English accent. His was much smoother and nonchalant. He never was pressured by stress, he was relaxed; in control. He had so many reasons to be miserable; the love of his life was dead, he lived alone. Yet, he was bemused, happy, which I admired. He had fans and rivals, enemies. I dearly wanted that. I longed to the lead of all those challenges, to be as noble as him. I wished I was a true gentleman, but I could never be like him…

I could never be like a God.

"First four, two, three… what animal's legs change like that?" I asked myself. "A humans." An irritated voice responded. It certainly wasn't mine; it was much deeper. "A baby crawls, a man walks on two, and an elderly man uses a stick as his aid." The voice was correct; it was a human. I clenched my small fists in fury, how dare he! How dare that, well, I think it's a male, spoil my puzzle, given to me by the professor himself! I spun around, in this malicious rude jerk's direction, but when I turned to face the owner of the voice, my eyes widened, my mouth hung open, and I twitched. He smirked at me with those almost black irises and that vicious smile, revealing his white teeth. My mouth was in the preference of screaming, but I held my ground. "C-Clive… what you doing here, you were arrested…" I stammered weakly. His smile widened, and I felt myself flush. "Don't you know me at all, Luke? I can escape. Anyways, I'm rich, I have enough still to bribe guards." Were all guards gold diggers or simply insane, to let this maniac leave, was their thirst for money that intense? "I can tell the Professah about this, he'll get you locked far far away, and we'll be safe!" I yelled. He glanced at the table, and picked up my inkbottle and spilt over every single page I had. "Oops." He whispered, and dropped the inkbottle so it smashed on the floor. "I'm afraid you can't cry to Mommy Hershel." I grinded my teeth and blew. "THAT WAS MY INKBOTTLE, NOW I NEED TO BUY A NEW ONE! AND HOW DARE YOU CALL HIM ANYTHING BUT THE PROFESSAH, YOU RUDE VILE BEING, AND HE IS NOT MY MOMMY!" I roared, outraged. He lifted up my chin my index finger, and emotions flipped from anger to fear. "Calm down, my little Luke…" He murmured and my muscles tensed. No matter how soothing his voice was, and I was not being lured into his charm. "Why… why are you at my school?" I enquired. I was in the study hall of St. Lachlan's Boarding school. It was named after Saint Lachlan, The Professor told me, because saint Lachlan is the patron saint of wisdom. "I'm a student too; I missed my final year last year because I was busy." _Busy being a psychopath, _I thought to myself. He stared into my eyes and murmured, "I'm glad you're here too, that makes life more fun…"

I clutched at his shoulders and pushed him off me. I scraped my chair back and sprinted, fear fuelling my stamina. I needed to get away from him, he wasn't good for me, but he drew me in like the scent of chocolate draws in a dog. It's poisonous but oh so delicious. "So, you want to play Cat and Mouse, eh? Well, I will give you a five second head start. Five… four… three… two… one… I'm coming for you!" He shouted, as I forced my scrawny twigs for legs to go faster. My feet slapped against the ground as I ran past classroom doors, posters, and lockers, to find myself an exit. I had to find an escape route fast; I knew Clive's longer more toned legs would catch up me in a few moments, and my legs were beginning to put out. I could kiss my eyes for they spotted a small window that I could barely squeeze through and a few lockers. Still, any escape was fine; my head had dried out of palatable ideas. I heard his breath panting louder; he was very close. I had no time to lose so I jumped on the lockers and began to crawl upwards. "Oh Luke, you might hurt yourself, get down here." He whispered seductively, and I began to climb faster. When I reached the top locker, I felt a tug; he had a hold of my suspender, and was dragging my down. I used a vast amount of strength to have a strong enough grip at the roof of the locker, as I tried to lift myself upwards. The suspender snapped from his pulling. "Come on Luke…" He devilishly muttered. I gasped as I reached the top and crawled over but Clive wasn't going let it end like this. He climbed up on the first level of lockers and grabbed my left leg. I swung that leg trying to make him let go, but he was determined. I just about pushed the small grimy window open. Now to get him off me. I hit the side his head with my right leg, and I heard him fall to the tiled floor. I couldn't resist glancing back; just to check if he was okay. He was rubbing his head, not too badly injured. Good enough for me. I hurt my leg as I squeezed through the window, and fell into the skip.

Well, at least I was safe.

I was sent to the infirmary with my bloody leg. The Matron rushed over to me. "Oh god child! What happened?" She was in her sixties, judging by the wrinkles. She had blond-grey wiry hair, and soft aura about her. I could tell her. "There's a pedophilic rapist, who is a student! His name is Clive Dove! He chased after me in the corridors near the study hall, and I'm worried!" She gasped, shocked. Her shock turned into laughter. I stared at her, why is she laughing? "Oh no no, Clive Dove is a sweet little boy, he would never do that. I've known him since he started here, aged 11. I think your fall gave you a few delusions. I'll get you some anti-bacterial wipes and then you can run along. "

I groaned; would anyone believe me?

After I was bandaged and cleaned up, and went back to the study hall to clean up the mess. I wore a cloak around me, because I feared Clive would jump out of the shadows if he saw me. When I walked into the deserted hall, I saw that it was all gone, and that there was an inkbottle with a crimson ribbon wrapped around its neck. "Luke Triton" was written on the ribbon. I blushed; for a rapist, Clive was sweet. I had to buy new paper though, and I hoped I had enough money for that.

I was going to write a letter to the Professor, but I knew I mustn't tell him about Clive. I had a fear that Clive would know I did, and do something about it and also I didn't need him to fret over me. I was a big boy now.

Short Chapter, but intense. Oh btw, this is before Layton gets the letter from Luke at the end of PL3. The riddle is actually a riddle that the Greek Sphinx would ask. When Oedipus solved it, she killed herself. Yes it's a human.

Yes, Saint Lachlan is the patron saint of knowledge. I'm not religious, but a lot of English schools have saint's names so yeah. I'm also doing the English secondary school system, so Luke would be starting and Clive finishing.

I used boarding school terms- as I attend a boarding school.

Professor Layton, Luke, Clive © Level –5.

Rate and Review! DarkLikeitornot.


	2. History Lessons of Love?

Time to get started on Chapter two!

Professor Layton, Luke and Clive aren't mine. ;-;

Chapter two: History Lessons of Love?

I waited until I was safely tucked in my room, to write my corresponding letter to the Professor. I had bought some paper prior and it was not cheap. "One pounds twenty please." The lady ordered and I felt ripped-off as I scrambled in my pockets for the change. I could kill Clive for effacing my precious parchment. Alas, seeing Clive was not at the top of my list unless I wanted to enter as a rape victim on official lists. Of course, it isn't rape when you like it but I wasn't going to debate over if I'd like that or not. I picked up my pen, and dipped it in the inkbottle (that had its lid off, naturally) and began to scrawl:

_Dear Professor, _

_I am fitting into school just fine as the new term has approached me. I'll be attending a fresh schooling day tomorrow. It is from my past experiences, okay enough. Today I injured my leg because… _Because a pedophilic rapist was chasing after me, oh yeah, you might know him, he's Clive, that man who tried to destroy London and we got him arrested? The Professor would spill his tea everywhere and flip. Well, flip in a refined manner. _…I was running and I tripped, oh I know, it was silly Professor but I'm a still a boy at heart. I was just having some enjoyment. _I paused at that lie, "Enjoyment." I believe mortification suited better. _I have the answer to your riddle, but someone unfortunately spoilt it for me, which caused great distress. It is a human, since a baby crawls on four legs; a man walks on two, and an elderly person uses a stick as well. Professor, I rather you think I didn't solve this, since that person already did. Maybe he likes puzzles too? _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Luke Triton. _

I folded the letter and slid it into the envelope, and then I stuck my tongue out and licked the areas of the envelopes lid, and firmly pressed it down so it was cemented. "Oh if only you could lick me like that…" I heard a certain voice murmur, and my body froze. I looked up and glared at him. "Please do keep those thoughts to yourself." I sternly told him. He chuckled. "Actually, I'm here to shed some news. Tomorrow, the older years get choose what Year Seven they're sharing their little dorm with. Basically, it's just two people in a dorm. So, just you and I. Don't fret, you're on the top of my list. In fact, you're the only one on my list." He stated, and bent over to kiss me goodnight, as I covered the duvets over my face; I didn't want him to know I liked it. As he swung my sliding door to shut it, he winked at me.

My stomach did a somersault, and I don't think it was out of hunger. The most recent events were enough to force me into sleeping with a slingshot.

I woke up rather early that day, not because of the thrills of education, actually. I forgot I had school today, until I was rudely awakened by someone's alarm clock chiming off at Six a.m. I trudged to the boy's toilets and examined myself. Eyes half-closed, a tired expression wore on my face, my hair was ruffled and my vest dipped in places as I scratched myself lazily.

I walked to the toiletry basins and unzipped my pants and emptied my fluids from my bowels.

I was so thankful for the fact that Clive resided in the floor above; so he used those bathrooms. I zipped my pants back up again, and washed my hands with lavender soap. Hygiene matters! I exited, and went back to my room to get dressed in the uniform and trot down to the reformatory, to have breakfast.

At the ref, I sat down at the Year Seven boys table, where my friends were. I pulled up a chair beside Gregory, a boy in my class. "Where were you yesterday evening? We were enjoying a splendid game of football!" A gaggle of pre pubescent boys nodded in agreement, and stared at me, waiting for an answer. "Oh, sorry about that, I was just doing a few errands. How was the match?" Schoolboys were quite typical; they immediately burst into conversation, interrupting over each other, reminiscing spectacular goal scores method, blow by blow, and debating over which team was more superior, and whether or not Richard actually did a handball. I relieved, in the mist of their entire story telling, they completely forgot to question me further on last nights activities.

We scrubbed our teeth clean and sparkling, packed our schoolbooks and bid each other farewell, as we trotted to our separate classes. I was in 7S with Gregory and Simon. Both were, fortunately bearable. We were bestowed with Arithmetic first class. For that subject, we had Mr. Frankhan, who had greasy black thin hair, which was glued to his scalp and beady beetle black eyes. It was a fairly dull class altogether, therefore I decided to make it more amusing by converting the maths equations into puzzles, like the professor advised me to. The professor would be such an amazing schoolteacher, and he'd allow to us to have tea breaks. It would be brilliant.

For some unknown reason, I suddenly imagined Clive as a schoolteacher. "Oh Luke, you bold boy, you printed your nine abnormally, now, face the wall, and pull down your pants as I smack you with my ruler." I gulped, disturbed. They should forbid corporal punishment from schools.

We had a batch of fascinating classes, which were composed of: Geography (We were investigating erosion), Science (We were showing how black cloths absorb sunlight by using ice cubes on a plate and covering it with a black cloth), Break (I had an apple that cost me twenty pence), History, English, and French to finish.

History was particularly… interesting, you could say that. We were discussing the Tudors, as it is a part of our nation's history. It started off with Henry the Seventh, who was a wicked man, no wonder, his son was Henry VIII, a fat devil in a crown, which was distributed to him after his brother Arthur died. He had six wives, all but one failed to produce a male heir, but Jane Seymour, but she died at childbirth. His frail son, Edward the youngest child, became to succeed him. However, Edward only lived to the age of Sixteen, his advisor suggested that his niece would become his successor. However, Mary Tudor known as "bloody Mary" did not agree and charged with an army (I think… I lose concentration sometimes), and took the throne. She was married to King Philip of Spain, and she was a devout Catholic, and burned Protestants at the stake, hence her nickname. To bring an end to it, there was Queen Elizabeth, who never married but was an independent woman. Halfway through Miss. Ashington's speech about them, she was interrupted by a knock at the door. She stopped and called for the person to enter as the class of 7S, focused their attention on the door. It creaked open and a head peeped out of the space. Clive's head. My instincts told me to dash, abandon ship, or rather, classroom, but I knew I'd look like an idiot if I did, and not very well-mannered. Miss. Ashington smiled brightly. "Class, this is Clive Dove. I had him when he was just a little Year Seven, like you all. Yes, what it is, Clive?" I told already tell Miss. Ashington had been besotted by Clive's charms, and it made me sick. "Oh, could I see Luke Triton, he's in this class, right?" I almost begged on my knees for her to say no, but then that would draw Clive's attention that I was in the class in fact. Instead, I had a dodgy idea, the old rummage-around-in-your-schoolbag trick. So, I bent down and pretended there was something I was browsing for. "Yes he's down there." She stated and I hit my head off the table. Oh dear, I'm screwed. I got out from my hiding spot and rubbed my head. Clive raised his eyebrows at me, and I instantly began to magic up excuses not to go. "Oh, I'm fine, I'll see you later." 7S stared at me, in awe. I'm a good boy, why was I refusing to an elder? Clive knew how to play this game. "Oh, but it's quite urgent." He said; his voice slowly trailed over the word "urgent" thus emphasizing it. I still had another excuse, another swing of the ball. "But I'm enjoying this lesson!" I argued, but Miss. Ashington cut in. "You've been doodling on that piece of paper for the past ten minutes and not listening." I flushed, defeated, as the class sniggered, and Clive smirked. Clive: 1 Me: 0.

I slowly crawled out of the classroom reluctantly, following Clive who had a skip in his step. He stopped at the school's study area, and I folded my hands on my hips, glaring at him. As much as I was putting up a tough act, I was really, terrified. Isn't there anyone else studying at this time? He slid his arms around me, and pulled me in with vice-like grip. "Why am I here?" I snapped. I felt one of his hands slide to the centre of my back and begin to stroke it. "Well.. I was studying, and I missed you, and I knew you missed me too." I went bright red, but denied it frantically. Instead of arguing with me, Clive did something, which he preferred- he pressed me against his body and kissed me. His tongue slid into my mouth and began lick the insides of my mouth. My tongue slid back, reeling away from this. His tongue sought out mine and licked it, which caused a spark to go through my whole body. I shouldn't desire these things, but I realised I liked Clive a lot. Give me a few days, and I'd love him. I threw him off me, and gasped for breath. "I can't do this…" I started to sob. He picked me up and tucked me into his chest. I cuddled into him; he was so warm and soft. "Yes you can." He murmured in my ear. "You're just scared." Scared? I was terrified. I nuzzled into him, and he held me close.

"Oh, aw, what a cute little boy! Is he your brother?" I heard a voice belonging to a girl ask and Clive answer, "No, he's a boy I was supervising. He wet himself, and I could only find the school uniform's trousers." I tensed; I was mortified, and I could murder Clive right now. Instead, I buried my head deeper into Clive's torso in embarrassment. "Aww! The poor little boy! Well, at least he had you." She swooned, and a pang of jealously hit my stomach. This was certainly a new emotion in my feelings about Clive. He agreed and told her that we had to leave. Once we were out of earshot, and I growled, hoping he'd just mistake it for his stomach. "Are you jealous?" He chimed. I shook my head bitterly, and jumped out of his arms. "I love yo-" He began, but I was already running away.

We were told that we would be dorm-sharing with the older years, the decision of who chooses who, will be held at Seven O' Clock sharp. The older years would choose, naturally. Seven p.m… that would be in five minutes. I gulped; I didn't need a psychic, I knew my fate.

I slowly walked towards the hall.

Ah! I'm finishing it there, because I am tired of typing. XD And, it was good place to end. ^^

This chapter was much cuter than the first. (Wait; there wasn't anything cute about that chapter…)

The Tudor Short History, I did all myself, but I needed to find Jane's surname.

I know, I messed up on a bit. ."

The game of football is soccer. Over here, when we say "football" we usually mean Gaelic Football. Obviously, Americans relate to American Football.

In Year Seven, you must have turned 11 that year before August 31st. I'm technically young for my year, but England I'd be in Year Ten. However, due to my age, I should be Year 9. (I'm not bothering explaining the Irish school system…)

I forgot for a second, that English people don't learn Irish! DX

R and R.

DarkLikeitornot.~

And yes, it was embarrassing trying to explain how Luke was peeing!


	3. Dormitory buddies

Onto the third chapter? Yes, I ought to be!

I need to stop procrastinating…

Chapter three: Dormitory buddies.

I marched into the hall like a clockwork toy, the sort I usually receive as presents at Christmas. Well, used to, I receive novels now.

My whole body trickled with fear. When I entered the hall, I immediately distinguished the Year Sevens from the rest. It was hard not to; they were the meagre little trembling ones. I went over to stand beside them, instantly blending with my year. I gulped and searched for the Upper Sixth. My eyes found them; they were superior, older, stronger, their smiles more deep and scary, their innocence wiped away. A shiver went through my body when I saw Clive. He was running his hand through his tufty light-brown hair, eyes closed, in nonchalance. This appearance made him more attractive. Gregory turned to me. "Luke, why are you blushing?" He questioned, and my eyes widened. Oh dear god, why me, why must all my blood cells clot up on my cheeks? "It's just rather warm, that's all." I lied through my teeth and forced an artificial smile. I could tell that he was unconvinced, but he didn't retort. We were poised in an awkward silence, so I was glad the head girl spoke up. "Welcome all years of St. Lachlan's Boarding School. It is a pleasure to have you all for the Annual Dormitory-sharing. Well, we'll get the Year Sevens first. Well, can we have please a few Upper Sixths that wouldn't mind stepping forward?" A few generously approached the stage, including, to my terror, Clive. To my surprise, a lot gasps were to be heard. I was filled with relief for a moment; did they too realise that he was a creepy rapist? Gregory whispered in my ear, "That's Clive Dove, and he's rolling in pounds. However, he never shares a dorm with anyone. My brother told me." The skin on my back sharpened and felt the cold air hit it. I was disappointed; they didn't realise how scary that boy is. The head girl raised her eyebrows. "Well, this is a rare sight… Clive Dove actually willing to share for once. With a Year Seven, too. What a gentleman!" She flushed, and I told already tell, whoever Clive chose, would be Clive's for the rest of the year. Oh my lord. "Well, in that case, Clive, you can go first-" but she was cut by an uproar of the sixth formers. "That's not abiding by the rules!" and "Just because you want to give him special treatment in the bedroom, doesn't mean you give him special treatment here, keep it in your pants!" and even "This hall isn't for humping guys you like, you know!" The Head Girl's face transformed into a brilliant crimson colour, as she stuttered. "U-um, well, then C-Clive you'll have to just wait…" She told him, blushing. He smirked, and I knew he was plotting some evil formula. "No. I'm going up now." He announced, and before anyone could say a word of an argument, he said, "Luke Triton, you are sharing my dorm." My finger trembled, as if I was given the death sentence. Or rape sentence, that was a special sentence that only Clive could issue. "NO!" I screamed, and everyone wheeled around to stare at me in shock. I went a shade of beetroot. Clive bowed his head, upset, and I immediately felt terrible. I had hurt him. The head girl gave me the ultimate glare, as if her pupils were knives. The other Upper Sixths sided with me. "I'll have Luke!" They all chorused. I knew that they only trying to tick off the Head Girl, but I felt so safe. Gregory rolled his eyes. "Wow, they all love you." He whispered to me, and I laughed. Until Clive grabbed my wrist, and beamed at me. "Bye, everyone! Oh, and Alicia, thanks for letting me go first!" He cried and blew a kiss at her. I knew (well, _hoped_) that he didn't mean any affection from it. She blinked, blushing, and as we were leaving, I heard a loud squeal erupt followed by a chanting of "ALICIA WANTS YOUR BABIES, CLIVE!" and her roar of telling them to be silent.

Now, you're wondering, why haven't I escaped? _A true gentleman never makes a scene in public. _I had to wait until we were out of view of the rest of the school, to escape. Unfortunately, Clive knew me too well, as he held my hand extremely tightly. If we were a young, soppy couple having a picnic on a breezy Sunday afternoon, at a lake resort for our honeymoon, and I realised that, I'd hold him tight and kiss him. Thinking about that, he'd enjoy that right now. I struggled to make him loosen his grip of my hand. "Let go of me NOW!" I roared at him in rage, but he gave his quick and pleasant kisses. I blushed, as he teased me. Since anger wasn't working, I still had my flattering side at my utility. I nibbled my index finger in a cute fashion, and murmured, "Clive, can you pwease let go?" and focused my pupils on him. He picked me up, as we strolled to my doom- I mean, our dorm. I nestled in his arms, and yawned. I didn't know why I was; my pocket watch informed me that it was only Eight thirty p.m. "I think someone's sleepy." Clive chimed teasingly. "Take me to my room." I ordered, exhausted. I didn't care where I was at the moment, I was so tired, all I needed was a warm bed and I'd be pleased. Tomorrow, I plan my escape. "You mean our room." He corrected me. I rubbed my eyes, puzzled. "What? Isn't there two rooms?" "Don't worry, there's a double bed in one room. We are sharing that." He whispered in my ear softly, and I gasped under my breath. This was all a part of his twisted plan. He was going to unearth the flower of virginity with delight. What a creepy thing to do; this boy certainly suited the term "the devil". I squirmed in his arms, but his grip was too strong. If I acted cute, he'd be lustful, if I blew into fury, he won't let go. If I act damsel-in-distress, he'd be the villain, if I sobbed, he'd cuddle me all night, which he (and myself, let's be honest) would love. I realised it was necessary to leave right now. "Okay…" I compromised, "But we have to stop by my room first." He seemed to agree, as I called out the directions, to where I used to sleep. He listened and followed my directions perfectly to where we stood outside my wooden sliding door, with some wood peeling off due to misuse by previous years. Clive put me on the ground. I entered my room, and slammed the door shut. I needed to create a plan of escape in four minutes. Four minutes, because Clive knew I'd try to leave, but he'd trust me "packing" until four minutes had gone by, then he'd know. Seeing as the Head Girl was too infatuated with him, so my initial plan failed spectacularly, I had to have a backup. First, I needed to push my bed towards the door, to block any entry. This wasn't easy, as my weak twigs were no match to push my heavy boarding school bed. Instead, I forced it to move by shoving it with my bum. As the legs of the bed scraped along the tiled floor, Clive suspiciously asked, "Luke… what are you doing in there?" I stuffed my clothes into my briefcase rapidly. "N-nothing, but packing." I lied trembling. A heard the door slide open, and I dropped the case. Clive looked at the bed, unimpressed. "Luke, this is a _sliding _door." He stated, and I went crimson, as I picked up my case by its handles. He jumped up my bed, and shouted "Luke, if you dare leave by that window-!" It was my turn to smile viciously. "Oh, Clive darling, you know me too well." I told him, and leaned over to kiss on his beautiful flawless-textured cheek. He blushed, and at that movement, an offer of freedom was made. I climbed on the windowsill, saw Clive's pupils dilate in fear, and hopped out. While I was in midair, I felt so delighted. I was free, from Clive, from love itself. Until, I glanced up and saw that Clive had jumped after me, using his hat as a parachute. "You are NOT escaping!" He yelled, as I hit the ground with my bottom, which was sore. I lifted myself out the wet grassy floor, and began to run. I heard him catching up, but I saw an automobile driving by and I dashed towards it, actually colliding with it. I pressed up against the glazed glass window, and stared at them, my eyes begging them to allow me inside in desperation. The woman wearing a violet frock, and a lilac scarf screamed and held onto her husband, who was the driver. He screeched the car to a halt, and I got in quickly. "You need to drive me away from that… that psycho!" I cried, and they glanced at me suspiciously, then looked at each other and shrugged. He spun the driving wheel as we accelerated and out if the window, I watched Clive try and grab onto the trunk of the car. As mortifying as that seems, I felt safe, clutching my briefcase close to my chest. As the car drove along, I saw the flora and fauna blur in a magnificent colour. The scenery of St. Lachlan's Boarding School was quite beautiful. Pity, I couldn't stay. The man turned to me. He was middle-aged, and tanned. "Sorry, kiddo, but you have to get off here. I can't leave this school with you in my car, that'd be kidnappin'." He told me in a thick American accent. I sighed, but nodded, as he stopped the car at the gardens. I hopped off, and curtseyed as a gesture of thanks. Why did I curtsey? I have no clear idea. As they drove away, so did my security. I was still on the grounds… with him. Maybe if I asked to move… hell, as if that Alicia would give me permission. She just wanted to get in his y-fronts; a little brat from Year Seven wasn't going to annoy her. A little brat that happened to share a dorm with him. I strolled around the gardens and climbed up the steps to the gazebo. I sat on the stone bench and thought to myself. I would run away, and go to the nearest train station. I'd take a train to where the professor lived. Not where I lived, I didn't ever want to see my tyrannical father. I walked through the gardens until I reached the drive down to the gate. My pocket watch told me it was ten minutes to eleven. God, time flies when you're in terror. The sky was painted pitch black. I sneakily sprinted down towards the gate, the picture my vision presented bobbing up and down, as I ran. I was near to the gate, when a car rapidly accelerated right in front of me. It wasn't the couple. The door flew open, and an arm stretched out, grabbed me and pulled me in. I stared at the driver. It was Clive. "God, I've waited long enough." He told me darkly and thrust me onto him.

Raep…? O.o

Find out in Chapter four!

And, btw, this is set in 1910-1940, so expect words like parchment. =.= (Sorry, I got a nasty review and I was saddened. .-.)

This chapter was slightly dark…

Sorry for the wait! D:

Clive, Luke, and Layton © Level –5.

Review, please.

DarkLikeitornot.


	4. Love or Hate?

Before I begin, I want to say CLIVE ISN'T GOING TO RAPE HIM; THEREFORE IT'S STILL T. Sorry- I spoiled it! DX I knew I'd never write explicit sexual literature.

Anyways I need to Update, lol. I will make my paragraphs shorter!

Chapter Four: Love or Hate?

I gasped, as I was thrust towards him. "Y-you're not going to hurt me, are you?" I whispered petrified. He wrapped his arms around me. I blushed, perplexed. "You need to trust me, Luke." He murmured and reserved the car, still having me cling onto him in fear. "I'm not going to anything to you yet, especially not here- I have taste." I snarled; he was still the same Clive as ever, snobbish. I had no clear idea of how I liked him; then again, love is erratic, isn't it? "Where did you acquire such a vehicle?" I asked, cuddling up to him, as he steered the Mercedes down the drive. "Stole it." He replied with an air of ease. I panicked. A Mercedes was worth a lot of pounds! The person would be very agitated. "You must return this!" I exclaimed. He laughed harshly. "Oh, Law-abiding Luke, did Layton always flog into that breaking rules is very, very bold? Come on, have a little amusement on the dark side of life."

_The dark side of life_… Clive knew that side quite famously, I suppose. It sent a shiver down my spine. What would the Professor think if he saw what had happened to me? Maybe he'd be supporting, because he knew what love feels like himself. The Professor is a man of rationality. I was wise enough to know that it still should be kept a secret.

He stopped and parked the car around the back. "I want you to return that car to its poor owner." I instructed him bossily. He didn't reply, instead he picked me up, out of the car, and shut the door, heading towards the back entrance, so no one would know the events of tonight. I wasn't fond of being carried, so I requested to get on the ground and move myself. "Keep close to me, Luke," He whispered as we glided through the night to the door. When we were inside, Clive instructed me to remain in silence, as we tiptoed up the spiral staircase where his dorm lay.

He turned in the key and twisted the brass knob. The door flew open, and my jaw descended in awe. It was massive, unlike other dorms; it had an island with a granite top, in a kitchen/living room area, and three large rooms with a bathroom. In the bathroom was steps covered by a crimson carpet, leading up to a luxurious bathtub. The tiling was beautiful, representing the morning sky. The fluffy white towels hung neatly on the cream towel hanger.

The kitchen/living room area consisted of plush purple beanbags, and coffee tables. "It's wonderful…" I gasped, as he glanced at me with euphoria, pupils dilated. I yawned suddenly, and I realised it was quite late in the day. "Let's go to bed." I told Clive, and he concurred. I decided to sleep in the second room, but Clive had other ideas. He steered me into the first room. The walls were pastel yellow, the bedspread was orange, and the bed frames were designed to appear like vicious vines fiercely intersecting with another. It was a double bed. "We're sleeping here together." He announced, as he unbuttoned his waistcoat. I blushed, and turned away. "Um, I'll go the bathroom to dress…" I muttered, and before he could alter that decision, I left. When I was finished changing, I examined myself in the mirror and went beetroot. I was in one-zip pastel blue pyjamas with little puzzle pieces dotted around the fabric. To put the delicious damn cherry on top of the luscious white icing, around the foot area, there were little tin bells that chimed whenever I moved. My mother had bought it for me though, so I did like it; it reminded me of her.

I took baby steps into the room; I felt like an overgrown baby. When I entered, Clive giggled. Yes, he actually giggled. "You are simply adorable!" He exclaimed joyously, as I pulled into a hug. He nuzzled my cheek with his button nose. He was still hugging me when he collapsed into the bed, dragging me with him. He covered my body with the duvets. He was irresistible when he acted this way, especially as he was only in his briefs. He tucked me in, with him. It was my personal heaven. "I need to protect you, Luke. I cherish you." He whispered in my ear, intimately. "Why? There's no one I should be afraid of." I told him, nestling into his body. I felt his kiss my head softly.

_There's no one I should be afraid of, Clive, except for you. _

The next morning, I stretched my arms outwards, just awakened. I glanced at my snoring comrade, and poked him forcefully. "Mmmm… no… let me wash you… hehehe…" He murmured in his sleep, and rolled over. I was slightly disturbed by that. "Clive, wake up!" I shouted, and he jumped in the air. He clutched at his throat, panting. He looked at me, at beamed. I greeted him briskly, and put my hat on, and adjusted it. "It's the most heart-melting thing when you dream about someone, and when you wake up, they are there in your initial vision." Oh dear lord- I was in that dream. Maybe it wasn't what I think it was… "What was it about?" I inquired, trying to act casual. He raised his eyebrows and murmured, "It wasn't very appropriate, for your young ears." I shuddered as I picked up my clothes.

Clive wanted to head down to breakfast, accompanying me, however I disagreed, and told him it was better if people didn't know. He groaned and accepted reluctantly. It was unnecessary for the school to know. Firstly, we were boys, and I didn't know what the school would feel about that. Secondly, it's a bit of pedophilia going on. Clive and I would be segregated. When I say that, I mean, I'd never see him again. I know, I'm always trying to leave, but as my feelings deepen, the more I can't resist him.

Whilst I was strolling to my table, Alicia brushed into me, and my porridge sloppily split down my shirt. My father was going to kill me if he saw how his freshly-ironed strict-looking shirt for his son who he wished could be a normal boy instead a little weirdo who enjoyed puzzles, was ruined. She glared at me, and I shrunk in her intimidating presence. "Don't you think you're special, Triton. That dorm was meant have _me _inside it." I stood back, as she narrowed her eyes into slits. "Yes, but he clearly called out _my _name." I stated, rushing away quickly, and I distinctly heard a scream of rage erupt behind me.

While I was wiping off the soggy porridge that was staining my shirt, I let out a puff of air in amazement. Never ever, did I think that I'd be in competition for a boy named Clive Dove, seven years my senior. The only thing I've ever been in competition is the Professor's assistant, and my competition was Flora. I won by a breeze, as The Professor needs to protect Flora and not bring a lady on his dangerous adventures. I did admire her courage of attempting, though, but I am the clear winner. However, I felt things were going to be a lot tougher with Alicia. I gasped; my life is like a rollercoaster, with nauseous turns and twists.

School was interesting enough, but after a hard days work, one tends to rely on relaxation. We had psychical education last class, so we were at the Gymnasium. Gregory left early because of a stomach bug, so I was to walk down to the boarding school alone. However, I spotted Clive and Alicia walking down, so I foolishly thought to tag along. I caught up with them, and Clive greeted me merrily. "Luke-!" He cried, and was about to embrace me, but I coughed, notifying him that Alicia was with us. He awkwardly dropped his arms in a stiff position. Alicia snarled darkly at me, as Clive began to ask me questions on my day. "School was fine, yes I had enough food, I honestly don't need cak-" I was cut off, as Alicia tripped me into the fishpond. Luckily, it was only a foot deep, but I was still ticked off. Some sort of green plant that residues in the pond hung over my mop of wet hair and my precious cap was soaked. "Luke!" Clive shouted and fished me out of the pond. Plucking the plant stems out of my hair, and squeezing the water out of my hat, he fretted over me. "Are you hurt?" "No." "How did you fall into it?" I heard a nasty giggle. Alicia's nasty giggle. "Oh, the stupid boy tripped in, what a clumsy thing to do." She lied, sneering at me. I growled; was there no justice?

I went into our dorm to have a nice warm bath. I entered the bathroom, in my towel, and locked the door behind me. I was not letting Clive's dream come true. In the bath, I played with the rubber duck, making it swim on the skin of the water. Sinking downwards, I wondered, why must I fall in love like this, is love like this? Well, it was complex.

After I was dry and clothed, I walked down to the Post to retrieve Professor Layton's letter.

It was in typical the Professor style: Scolding me on being foolish, but being understanding. Telling me a fantastic tale of his youth himself, telling me to ask this charming young lad if he did indeed like them, and to befriend him, because people who like puzzles are fantastic people altogether. He finished with a puzzle as usual.

I smiled to myself; at least the Professor stayed the same.

Argh. Yes, that's over with.

Sorry, I was in Ballyvaughan at my friends the other day, so I didn't get to write it.

Clive is still a creep with his dreams. XD

Competition! Sorry for making Alicia so bitter, but some girls are mean when jealous.

Ugh, I know its crap. DX

Review, please.

DarkLikeitornot.


	5. A trip in the snow

Hello! Back from my absence, it's I, DarkLikeitornot, with the long-anticipated Chapter Five.

Why the delay? I didn't really know what to write- well, I wrote drafts, but I loathed them all. Your reviews pushed me to write this.

This mightn't be exactly continuing on from Chapter 4, but it is still Chronological.

I'll try to be romantic. Oh, and it's wintertime.

Chapter 5: A trip in the snow.

The winter months approached icily, with their bitter winds, and dark evenings. Of course, Clive used the harsh weather as an excuse to cuddle me up, and wrap me in expensive cashmere scarves. I protested against all the fuss, though, I must confess, it was rather flattering. "I'm taking everything off!" I exclaimed, my voice muffled under three woollen scarves, and four duffle coats. "Everything?" He murmured, with a creepy smile.

"Ew no, you pervert!" I retorted, blushing heavily of such a thought. He smirked unpleasantly in reply. The rooftops of 's were covered in a fluffy blanket of snow, and the grounds were coated in ice, and frost was sprinkled delicately on top of the grass.

It was during a particularly harsh and bothersome day, which we were all excused from school. I returned to our dorm to find Clive, face shining despite it had been clearly hit by fierce winds, with a satchel strapped over his torso and a wearing long overcoat.

"Since we're off school, I decided that we should do something fun together!" He exclaimed, quite delighted with himself. I stared at him, slightly apprehensive. Clive's suggestions could be, well… _mature_. "A-ah, well, what is that you propose?" I asked him nervously.

He laughed cheerily at my scared countenance. "Don't fret- it's just going out on a trip together!"

I stared at him, aghast. "How? There are no cars for you to steal this time around, anyways the roads would be too icy to drive upon."

"My Chaffer can handle any terrain, darling."

I lost all sorts of coyness as I gaped at him. "W-what? A Chaffer?" Gosh, I should become a rich Psychopath. No one would disobey my orders, no matter how absurd they were. However, I'd have to work on my evil laugh. My voice is a slight bit too high to be that powerful.

"Yes, I've already ordered him over, he should be here in ten minutes. Let's get you dressed up, you'll catch the death of cold in only those clothes!"

After a lot of fussing, and kisses- from Clive, obviously- we were ready, and Clive's chaffer was parked right outside.

I turned to him before we left. "Er, are you sure we're allowed do this?" He smirked and muttered something along the lines of "being too naïve" in reply. Without a warning, he scooped me and stuffed me into the car, onto his lap. "I don't need to sit on your lap." I told him shortly, "When there is two other seats here in the back."

"Nonsense." He replied, and strapped the seat belt in over us, so I couldn't escape. He turned to the chaffer, and murmured, "You know where."

Halfway through over journey to wherever we were heading, I felt something odd while sitting on him. "Um, do you have anything in your pockets? Because I can feel it."

"A reporter must always have his notebooks." He told me, with a sly grin.

The strange thing is- he had no notebooks when we left…

Finally, he asked the chaffer to stop the car, and we hopped out together. We were at a forest, its evermore trees iced with snow, and the ground crunchy with frost. "I fancied that we should have a little walk before getting there. It's a pretty forest." He wasn't lying; the forest was idyllic, even if it was cold, and slightly dark. I held his hand firmly; I disliked the thoughts of a hungry creature leering at us in the dark. Then, I realised how different we were.

"You know, it's funny…"

"What is?"

"That you pretended to be _my _future self. As we are so different from one another."

"Are we? I dressed like you when I was younger, that's something in common."

"_Well,_ personality-wise. I wonder what he's like. My actual future self, I mean."

"Well, there's one thing I hope that he is."

"What?"

"Still in love with me."

Maybe it was the matter-of-fact way he said it, or how calmly he said it, but it was quite romantic either way. A bit soppy, but sweet, so sweet that I felt myself blush.

"Oh… I think he would be." I told him, pretty steadily which was an admirable feat because I was a shade of beetroot at this stage. As I saw the trees part, I suddenly realised where we were heading. A graveyard. My first initial thought was that he was going to bury me alive- which was, I must confess, a bit ridiculous- but then I understood. I was going to meet his parents.

He gripped my gloved hand tightly, as he pushed open the gate gently. The graveyard was silent; the only noise issued was the whistling of the wind as it passed through the trees.

"I never let anyone else come down here with me to see them… Not even Mrs. Dove…" He confides in me quietly, and with a sudden shock, I notice that he's crying. I immediately begin to feel awkward, and mutter politely "It's okay, Clive- I really don't have to come along-"

"No. I _want_ you to come with me, Luke." I simply nod, knowing that this means an awful lot to him.

"They would have liked you." He told me sincerely, as on the fifth row of tombstones, we turned in. At the end of the row, Clive stopped, and so did I. Facing us was a white marble tombstone, very simple, but quite beautiful. A bundle of primroses lay on the grave.

"My mother used to love primroses." He told me softly, and we stood there in silence, clutching one another's hands, paying our respects silently.

After half an hour, Clive turned to me, his face soaked with tears. Without a word, he pulled me into a hug and I patted the small of his back gently. After a long time, we let go of one another, and left the graveyard, without a word.

Clive's chaffer was waiting for us at the end of the forest. We hopped in, and Clive told him, "The best restaurant you know, please." The chaffer merely nodded, and drove.

"A restaurant?" I enquired, amazed.

"Well, I wanted to be romantic…" He murmured, slightly embarrassed.

"You don't even have to try." I told him, snuggling into his warm self.

Short but sweet, I think.

I hope this has made you forgive me for unbelievably long delay! ^^"

Reviews, my dears. And I promise- I _will_ update this soon!

-DarkLikeitornot.


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